Priorities
by Outsider Wolf
Summary: Spot Conlon has built a world of power around him and he will do anything to ensure that he stays in control, even if it means hurting the one person who ever truely loves him. After all, in Spot's mind, power does come before love.
1. Prolouge

**A/N: My first story ever! Yeah so this idea just popped into my head the other day, so I thought I'd give it a shot. A little angst, a little romance, but to tell you the truth, I have no idea where this is going, hence the rating (just to be safe). **

**Disclaimer: If you don't recognize it from the movie, I probably own it.**

**Summary: Spot Conlon has built a world of power around him, and he will do anything to ensure that he stays in control, even if it means hurting the one person who ever truely loved him. After all, power does come before love. **

Priorities

Chapter 1

Spot scanned the horizon in front of him, taking it all in. The morning sunlight creeping past the crumbling buildings, the dusty streets worn down and tired, the dark alleys daring someone to challenge their labyrinth. The docks were spread out in front of him, quiet but strong, like a carpet leading up to his throne. He grinned, leaning back on his perch, and waited for the city to wake.

Spot Conlon had quite a reputation. New York's streets were constantly whispering his name. He was infamous throughout the city, viewed as a serious threat, one that was best off left alone. But what made Spot so feared? Why did he rise when others fell? How does he stay in control? Many people think they have it figured out.

He doesn't feel.

He's merciless.

He's **brutal**.

It's funny how easily truths stay hidden yet lies spread like fire. Not that Spot minds. No, all the lies do is fuel his power, keeping him at the top. And it's going to stay that way, as far as he is concerned. So what if no one knows the real him. In fact, he's **happy** no one understands him. If they did, they could use it to their advantage, making him weak. **Weak**. What a pathetic word. Only the **strong** survive. The weak have no place in Spot's world. He made it that way, after all. Ever since he had taken over, the streets have gotten tougher and the rules more strict. Order was installed. Nothing could destroy what he had built. His domain was strong, and every day he seemed to only get stronger.

Spot sat up and leaned forward, his eyes following the occasional passerby. A few of them looked across the docks, and noticed his head inclined in their direction. They all quickened their pace and didn't look back again. Spot felt satisfaction. Being feared tends to do that to you.

"I will never be destroyed," he whispered to himself.

Fate seemed to have different plans...

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**So what do you guys think? I don't care what you say in your reviews, as long as you do review! I'll try to reply to every review I get, but I'm not going to be updating unless I get some comments! You know what to do. Please and thank you,**

**Outsider Wolf**


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews guys, they really do motivate me. I appreciate it. So on to the next chapter, hope you enjoy it.** **Oh, and there might be some language in this chappie, so I hope you guys don't mind. I don't know, I might be changing the rating to Mature, but we'll see how things go.**

Priorities

Chapter 2

Spot was leaning against the Brooklyn Lodging House, tapping his trademark gold tipped cane with impatience. It was a beautiful day in Brooklyn, a clear sky above and an occasional warm breeze making waves on the river. However, the Brooklyn leader was in no mood to enjoy the scenery. "God damn it, Smalls!" he finally shouted. "Where da hell is Night?"

Smalls, who had been pacing back and forth in front of the Lodging House, jumped slightly at Spot's sudden outburst. He had been thinking the exact same thing, and cursed Night for being so careless. He should have known that if Night wasn't on time Spot would take it out on him, and that's one position no one wants to be it. "Sorry Spot..." Smalls began somewhat lamely. " I told him to be here at eleven..."

Spot growled and looked down the dusty street that lead past the Lodging House. Absent mindedly he began cracking his knuckles, something he usually did when he was either really angry or really stressed out. Spot wondered what time it was. He told Cowboy he would meet him at Tibby's to talk about Manhattan's conflict with Queens at twelve, and if he wanted to be on time they should have left Brooklyn fifteen minutes ago. But Spot wasn't angry about being late for his meeting with Jack, Cowboy wouldn't even mention to Spot that he was late if he showed up next Tuesday. No, Spot was angry because Night had the **nerve** to make him stand here waiting for him.

Just when it got to the point that it looked like Spot was going to murder someone, Smalls saw a figure with jet black hair rounding the corner of the street and racing towards them at full speed. Smalls looked at Spot, he had spotted Night too. He grinned as he saw the murderous look in Spot's eyes. Night was going to get it now

The dark haired boy skidded to a stop right in front of the Brooklyn leader. Gasping to catch his breath, he finally mumbled, "Spot, I- ".

Spot's fierce glare cut the unfortunate newsboy off. Night stood there uncomfortably, waiting for his leader to say something. "Please, please don't soak me..." Night silently prayed. He had never really believed in God, but then again, he had never been on the opposite end of Spot's wrath before.

Spot walked towards Night, so close that their noses were almost touching. Night looked to the ground, not daring to meet Spot's icy blue eyes. As he looked down he saw Spot's fists clenched tightly at his side, and he realized he was about fraction of a second away from tasting his old blood. Night suddenly felt very cold. He hadn't felt this feeling in a while. It was fear.

Spot felt the same satisfaction that he always felt when he could tell someone was afraid of him. Night stood there in front of him, practically shaking in his shoes. Being one of Spot's best fighters, he rarely showed any emotion. You couldn't if you wanted to survive one night in Brooklyn. Night had held his ground in many fights, never backing down, and never breaking his gaze with anyone who challenged him. And here he was, breaking out in a cold sweat and refusing to meet Spot's eyes. Yes, this was very satisfying.

"What the **_hell_** were you doing that was more important than meetin' me here?" Spot said fiercely to a very nervous Night. Spot inwardly smiled at his uncomfortableness.

"I'm sorry Spot, I...I just..." Night gulped, not knowing what to say. In truth, he had actually lost track of time, but using that as his excuse would only earn him a big, ugly shiner on his face. In his mind, Night damned himself to Hell for being so stupid as to get himself into this mess. He looked over to Smalls, who was grinning at him smugly. Night looked away. He had probably gotten Smalls into trouble when he was late, and now the newsboy was enjoying the fact that Night was most likely going to get a pounding from Spot.

Spot growled. This was taking too long, he didn't have time for Night's excuses. He poked Night in the chest. "Don't let it happen again," he finally said. With that, Spot brushed past Night and walked off in the direction of the Brooklyn Bridge. Smalls followed behind, keeping a short distance behind Spot, not sure if he was approachable yet. Night couldn't move for a moment, still shocked about everything that had happened. Snapping himself out of it, he hurried after Smalls and Spot, not wanting to make Spot mad again.

For the most part, the trip was silent. Spot still wasn't in a very good mood, and his newsboys weren't willing to test the waters. As they walked, they passed by a fair number of girls. Each one of them either stopped in their tracks when they saw Spot, or continued to follow him with their eyes until he was out of sight. Spot made eye contact with a choice few of them, and even smirked at the ones he found pretty. To be smirked at by Spot Conlon... considered an honor in some girls' minds. He may be known throughout the newsboy world as being the toughest and most successful leader a borough has ever had, but he was known in the civilized girl world as being the most devilishly handsome boy to ever grace New York City.

Spot loved his reputation. If there were two things he loved in this world, they were power and women. To him, the two pretty much fit hand in hand. The more power you had, the more women you **could **have. And Spot, he had a lot of women. One could be found in his bed almost every night. You would think that the self respecting girls of New York City would despise a womanizer like Spot, going through women night after night like he was going through shirts. But Spot, he wasn't just **any** womanizer. He was the ruler of the New York underworld, a position that didn't compare to any of those in the civilized government. Spot could have anyone he wanted, anywhere he wanted. And he loved it.

They continued walking, until Manhattan finally came into view.

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**A/N: Phew, another one done. Basically I wanted you guys to see a little bit of life in Brooklyn in this chappie, as well as get Spot's character somewhat established. Hopefully his love interest will come into play in the next update, but I'm not making any promises! PLEASE review. You don't know how much it means to me. If you want more of this story, you know what to do. **

**Outsider Wolf**


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: Sorry for the wait guys. School just got out, and my life's been a little hectic. But here you go, I really hope you like it. And if you're a new reader, well, give it a try. Hopefully I wont disappoint.**

**Oh, and I know I said Spot's love interest may come into play here, but I decided to hold her off until the next chapter. cowers in a corner Don't be too mad at me... :)**

Chapter Two

Manhattan. Spot didn't really like Manhattan. People there just didn't know their place. Jack was a good fighter, had been for as long as Spot had known him. His skill didn't match up to the King of Brooklyn's, but he wasn't too shabby. However, when it came to his newsboys, Jack's fist went limp. Anyone could join the Manhattan newsies, as long as they could scream a headline. Spot never really understood that. Letting weak little kids into your army just 'cause they want to play "newsie" for a day? No, that was something Spot would never comprehend. Jacky Boy may be smart, but his compassion was chipping away at the foundation that his fragile Manhattan status was resting on.

Spot pushed open the door to Tibby's and distinctively stepped inside, making sure his presence was known. The bustle and clamor that had previously occupied the tiny newsboy hangout stopped dead in it's tracks. Smiling faces quickly turned serious and whispered conversations ended abruptly. Spot Conlon had arrived and by the icy look in his eyes, he wasn't too happy.

Without saying a word, Spot quickly headed to the empty table where Jack was sitting patiently waiting for him. As he walked through the restaurant, his cold eyes stared down any unfortunate onlooker who caught his eye. It would seem that Spot was annoyed with the many eyes following him as he strutted through the tables, the way he glared at anyone he caught staring, but in his head he loved it. The attention he was receiving let him know he was still feared, still on top.

Spot sat down on the empty chair across from where Jack was sitting. Night and Smalls sat down at one of the tables where a few boys were playing poker. Conversations that the other newsies were having started up again, and heads turned back away from Spot. None of them wanted to be caught eavesdropping on the two leaders' conversation, especially since Spot looked to be in no joking mood.

"So, Cowboy," Spot began leisurely. "I hear youse been havin' some trouble with them Queens boys."

Cowboy sighed, ripping up his napkin into little pieces. "I know Bull nevah really liked me much, but I din' think he would up and threaten me for me own territory..."

Spot looked down and examined his cane, running his fingers along the grooves inlaid in the gold. This wasn't good for Kelly. Bull had always been a fairly hostile leader, but he had never demanded territory before. What the hell was that dumbass thinking? Something like this would cause war. Bull had never been the sharpest tool in the shed, but even he should have known what repercussions his little threat would cause. It was known throughout the city that Spot and Jack were good friends, and if anyone thought of messing with Manhattan, it was only common sense that Brooklyn would get involved too. Bull was a cocky son of a bitch, but did he really think he could take on the toughest borough in the city?

"It seems tah me," Spot said slowly, "that Bull is trying to hit two birds wit one stone."

"Wha'? Brooklyn? Yah think he's tryin' to take down **Brooklyn**?" Jack questioned, astonishment on his face. It was unheard of. Challenging Brooklyn was **unheard** of.

"Think about it, Jacky Boy. He knew I wouldn't just stand by and watch while he kicked you to da curb."

"But even Bull ain't that stupid. I don' think all the boroughs combined could take down Brooklyn, let alone Queens all by itself."

Spot smiled smugly. "You got dat right Jacky Boy. Those Queens boys sure got some balls..."

"...But no brains." Jack finished for him.

"Speaking of brains, where be dat Walking Mouth of yours?" Spot said, scanning the restaurant.

"He's been helpin' out his Ma at home. His Pa still ain't doin' too well."

Spot just nodded.

It was true, David's father was still recovering from his hurt arm. He seemed to be doing well for a while, but then it just got worse. David told Jack that the doctor said he had some kind of infection. Jack couldn't remember the name, but David said it was serious. Jack sighed, he really wanted Davey to be here. He was going to need his advice when the push came to throw, and he wanted him to hear what Spot had to say.

Getting back to business, Spot leaned in and stared Jack straight in the eye. "You listen to me, Cowboy. Next time Queens sends a runner to yah, 'demanding' territory or whatnot, you get one of yah boys to come and get me. I'll take care of him for yah, and maybe Bull will get the message and back off. If not, it's gunna be war," Spot finished, slamming down his fist on the table. A few of the newsboys turned their heads to see what the commotion was about, but a look from Jack told them to go back to their business.

His eyes downcast, Jack drummed his fingers on the table. Spot definitely got right down to the point. Was this the right thing to do? He didn't know. Damn, this is exactly why he wanted David here. But then again, fighting was Spot's element. The King of Brooklyn was offering him his help, and Jack was in no position to refuse.

Jack spit in his hand and held it out. Spot did the same and shook it.

"Thanks, Spot." Jack said, somewhat humbly, maybe?

Spot grinned in return. "I'm gunna let these Queens boys know exactly who they be messin' wit."

With that, Spot stood up and walked towards the door. Once again the diner became silent. "Smalls, Night, we're leavin'." The two Brooklyn boys got up and followed Spot out the door. They didn't ask any questions. Spot would tell them if he wanted to.

Meanwhile, in the diner, all heads turned to Jack.

"We're goin' to war with Queens..." Jack said almost uncertainly.

There was a chilling silence once more. Manhattan wasn't a very violent place. There had never been a war involving them before. What was this going to lead to?

"With," Jack continued, "the help from Spot."

You could almost hear the relief crash over the Manhattan newsies. Spot Conlon was on their side. With him, at least, they had a fighting chance.

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**A/N: You know what to do. Reviews mean a lot to me, they let me know someone is out there, actually interested... so c'mon! Click that purdy little purple/blue button at the bottom of the screen! You know you want to...** **pwease? **

–**Outsider Wolf**


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: Here you go, another chappie up and running. Time to introduce... dun dun dun... the girl! (Who will for the meantime be remaining nameless. But just for the meantime!)**

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Chapter Three

Spot stepped out of Tibby's and into the bright sunlight that consumed New York City that day. He closed his eyes and sighed, cursing the Gods above that his life was always so damn complicated. He had never had a simple day in** his life**. Even as a little kid, Spot had it rough. His father was a drunken bastard. He used to be a fairly good man, he loved his little wife and took pride in his beat up Brooklyn apartment. But after he caught on that Spot's mother was a lying, cheating whore and had slept with every man in the apartment building, he lost it. Turning to alcohol and gambling, Spot's father began to waste his life away, finding pleasure in connecting his fist with his wife's jaw every once in a while. He didn't believe Spot was his son. Hell, even Spot didn't believe he was his son. His mother wouldn't give him up though, making his "father" even angrier. And Spot had the scars to show for it.

Spot didn't run away like most people think. His father dragged out by the neck one day a little before his thirteenth birthday, told him if he ever came back he'd kill him. That was all Spot needed to persuade him. Giving his father the finger, he turned on his heel and walked away, his mother's cries ringing in his ears as his father restrained her. And he hadn't looked back since. Last he heard, his father killed his mother about a year after left, then was hauled off to Rikers Island by the bulls, screaming like a madman the whole way.

When one of his newsies had told him, Spot didn't even bat an eyelash.

And now this damn conflict with Queens. "God," Spot thought to himself. "I should just go tah Queens and kill Bull now and end dis thing befoah it begins."

Spot was seriously contemplating the idea. If he did kill him, it would definitely teach the city once and for all who was in charge. **Brooklyn**. Spot Conlon. It wouldn't be that big off a loss, even in the eyes of the Queens boys. Bull was nothing special, just another tough boy newsie trying to make himself known, make a name for himself that newsies would always remember yet would always fear to speak. Every newsie had the dream, but none had succeeded in making it a reality. Well, except for one.

Finally, Spot decided to see what move Queens would make next. If they did something stupid, like openly threaten Brooklyn or kill one of Jack's boys, Spot would kill Bull and any other Queens boy who got in his way. No doubt about it. He didn't have time to be involved in a war against idiots. Spot liked worthy opponents, and if Queens didn't prove to be worthy very, very soon, Spot would destroy them.

Spot glanced over to Night and Smalls. They were trailing behind him, still careful to keep their distance. He could tell by the looks on their faces as he met their eyes that they were dying to know what the plan was. Brooklyn boys are always anxious for a fight. These two were no different. Its been a while since they tasted blood, and Spot knew they were itching for a good rumble.

"Well boys," he began slowly, noticing the way they diverted their attention from everything else to him, craving information. "I told Cowboy back at da dinah that we are gunna be goin' tah war with Queens." They boys nodded their heads, though they could tell he had more to say. "But, I ain't too sure its gunna get that far. If Bull, or any othah of his boys do anythin' stupid, which dey most likely will," Night and Smalls grinned at this, "then we're gunna go to Queens and kill Bull. Simple as dat. Got it?" The two newsboys glanced at each other and grinned.

"Yeah Spot, we got it." Smalls said smoothly. He would love to take that bastard Bull out once and for all, and hoped he would be there when the deed was done. The dumbass had always bothered him, and he would be extremely happy once he was gone.

"Now I don't want yah to be spreading word about dis 'cause I ain't even sure its gunna happen and I don't want..." Spot's voiced trailed off. The words got caught up in his throat, a definite first for him. He forgot what he was going to say. He forgot where he was and what he was doing. He couldn't see anything, anything at all, except for **her**.

She was standing, across the street, a bulky brown bag in her arms, most likely groceries. Her hair was brown and beautiful, cascading in silky curls down her back. She had eyes the color of emeralds, deep, pure, and absolutely gorgeous. Rose colored cheeks blended well with her milky complection. Her small button nose was just the right size, with a tiny dash of freckles on it. Creamy pink lips slightly parted themselves, displaying a hint of white teeth. A small, round face tied in all her features perfectly. Her body was petite and poised, her small arms clutching the bag as she turned her head from left to right, deeming it safe or not to cross the busy road. A stray strand of hair caught on her face as a breeze brushed by. She reached up to push it away.

Spot could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Blood was rushing in his ears, he could barely hear. Brooklyn had never felt this way before. The girl was pretty, but it would be an exaggeration to say she was beautiful. He had had better than her. He could **get **better than her. Hell, he was Spot Conlon! Any woman in the city would jump at the chance to get in bed with him. But, that's **not** what he wanted. He wanted **her**. That girl. That girl with pretty green eyes.

"Uhhh... Spot?" The moment was gone, the voice had knocked him back to reality. Sound came rushing back, as did his sight. A sudden wave of dizziness passed over him, but he quickly shook it off. Spot whipped his head over to the one who had spoken, anger flashing in his eyes. He had enjoyed looking at her, when nothing else seemed real. And now that feeling was gone thanks to Night.

"What?" he growled menacingly.

Night took a step back, uncertainty consuming his features. Had he done something wrong? "I... uhh... well you was just talkin'... and den yah stopped in da middle of yah sentence... and..." Night looked away. He sounded pathetic. How did the Brooklyn leader manage to instil so much fear in him?

Spot thought back to what he was saying, still angry that Night had interrupted his thoughts. He looked back to where the girl had been standing only to find that she was gone. He cursed in his mind, but regained his control on the outside. There was no way any of his boys were going to see him lose control just because of a girl. "Well as I was **sayin'**," Spot said glaring at the two newsboys. "I don't want da boys tah get da idea dat we're gunna kill Bull if we ain't actually gunna kill Bull. So you two bettah keep yah mouths shut. If I hear any word of dis from any of da boys, I'll know who it came from." With that, Spot turned his back once again on the two intimidated Brookies, heading towards the bridge. He kept an eye out for the girl, but didn't see her. "I'll find yah," he thought to himself. "It's jus' a mattah of time."

She was going to be his. Spot had made up his mind. And as we all know, Spot Conlon always gets what he wants.

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**A/N: Wow I've been writing this one for a while, and am personally pretty proud of how it turned out. But its not what I think, its what you think! So review and such, and tell me if you like it! **

**Outsider Wolf**


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: Another one up! Ahh ok so I have a story. I was on vacation this last week with the family, and we stayed at this hotel with a water park. Anyways, me and my sister were at the water park and since it was made for little kids, we thought it was pretty lame and got really bored. So, we decided to go in the hot tub. As we walked over, I stopped dead in my tracks. In the hot tub was a guy who looked EXACTLY like Spot Conlon, reincarnated or something! And he was sitting in the hot tub all by himself, just glaring at everyone with these amazing blue eyes. Now this was a pretty crowded water park at a pretty crowded hotel, yet no one else even dared to go in there with him, the way he just sat there, almost daring people to come and disturb him. Yeah, like I said, freaky. The kid even acted like Spot. So basically it was amazing. Just thought I'd let yah know.**

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The days dragged by slowly in Brooklyn. Spot was sitting on the docks, atop his usual perch. It was dusk in Brooklyn, the sun's last rays sinking behind his borough's dingy buildings. He ran a hand through his greasy hair and gave out a frustrated sigh. Bull still hadn't made a move, and it had been almost a week since the threat on Manhattan had been made. Spot was tired of waiting. "What are you playing at, Bull?" Spot thought coldly as he stared into the river's rough waters. Queens had made a statement when they confronted Jack, and now what were they doing? Laying low? Backing down? Planning something? Spot didn't have a damn clue. Queen's silence gave him no answers, but Spot looked at it as an act of cowardice. Bull made a threat that he couldn't back up, so he thought if he didn't say anything more, things would blow over. Spot smirked. "Poor bastard," he thought. "He's got anuddah thing comin' to him if he thinks dis is gunna jus' go away. Not now. Not dat Brooklyn's involved." If there is one thing you've got to learn about Spot Conlon, its that he doesn't let things go easily. The way he figured it, forgiveness never built empires.

But Queens wasn't the only thing that had Spot in an especially unapproachable mood. No matter what he did or what he was thinking about, Brooklyn always found his mind drifting. He wasn't used to this. He knew what he wanted, but he hadn't gotten it yet. Her. The girl. The girl with the eyes. Damn, Spot liked those eyes. Most of the whores that hung around Brooklyn didn't have green eyes. At least, not like hers.

Spot silently cursed. It was plain and simple. Spot wanted the broad he saw in Manhattan. Hell, he didn't even know her name! But when he first saw her, she had captivated him. She appeared so... innocent. Spot had never been with anyone **innocent** before. No, most of his women were **very** experienced. But maybe that's why he wanted her. Spot didn't know. Nether the less, he was itching to go to Manhattan again. He couldn't wait to find her, to lay his eyes on her again, to make her his.

Spot jumped down from his throne. Slipping his cane through his belt loop, he hitched his thumbs in his pockets and headed off the Brooklyn Lodging House. The sounds of the city were quieting down. This was the time of night that everything closed up, when everyone retreated to the safety of their own shit hole apartments. Brooklyn was not a good place to be at night. Dangerous people roamed it's infamous alleys, prowled it's dusty streets. There were thieves. Rapists. Murderers.

There was Spot Conlon.

Spot's kingdom may not seem like much to you, but to those who lived on the other side of society, it was everything. You see, in our world, money essential. We need it. We're a slave to it and what it brings us. Not only does it determine our social status, it determines our **survival**. Surprisingly, this system didn't work too well in New York's underworld.

Spot Conlon was a poor man. All newsies were. Yet **these** were the kids that ruled the streets, that established hierarchy within the boroughs, that got **power**. How was it possible? It's a funny thing, power is. When money's not there to decide who has more or less, what does?

**Fear**. Fear and respect.

Nothing less, nothing more. Don't try to argue the fact, because I'm telling you, it's the truth. That's the way things worked back then. Cowboy, for example, was known for being an incredible leader. He was loved by nearly everyone who knew him, and held in high regards of the newsies throughout the city. But was he powerful? No. Jack was **not** powerful. He may have had respect, but he wasn't feared. The two need each other for the system to work, otherwise the whole concept of power falls apart. Now Kelly was a good man, but he wasn't powerful. Not like Spot.

In order to understand the complex person that Spot Conlon is, the system which he rules over needs to be comprehended. Spot, his newsies, or anyone else he deems worthy can pass through his streets at night unharmed. No one would dare touch them. Being powerful tends to have it's advantages.

Spot smirked as the lodging house came into view. He could picture the look on Smalls' face when he told him that Bull would be dead within 36 hours. That kid had always hated Bull; no one really knew why. Spot might have even let him do the honors if so much wasn't resting on this. He had a point to prove. If you mess with Manhattan, you mess with Brooklyn.

Spot pushed open the door to the lodging house and stepped inside. Most of the boys were milling about, either talking or playing poker with one another. The Brooklyn boys were a rough crowd. You could tell just by looking at them. Bruises and scars coated many of their faces and their knuckles were almost always scraped and bloodied from a recent brawl. Their eyes were cold and hard, trained not to show emotion. Years on Brooklyn's tough streets had taught them that.

"Night! Smalls! Come here!" Spot barked as he walked over to a corner of the room. The two newsies who were previously occupied with a game of poker quickly put down their cards and headed over to their leader. Spot didn't like to wait. They exchanged a slightly nervous glance as they approached him, who had a very serious look on his face. Each were secretly praying that the other had not spoken word of Spot's idea. They could only imagine what Spot would do to them if he found out they had disobeyed a direct order. However, They didn't have time to ask each other, as Spot was impatiently motioning them over.

"Yeah, Spot?" Smalls began, careful to keep the nervous tone out of his voice. The last thing he wanted was to appear weak in Spot's eyes.

"You two remembah what I told yah da day we went tah Manhattan? 'Bout Bull and my little idea?" Spot began, his eyes betraying nothing of what he was thinking.

"Oh shit," was all Night could think. "Damn Smalls an' his big mouth! Now we're gunna get it..." Night risked giving a hard glare in Smalls direction, only to find him glaring with equal force back at him. "What da hell?" thought Night. "He's lookin' at me like **I'm** da traitor?"

Spot continued talking, ignoring the looks Night and Smalls were giving each other. "Well I've made up me mind. Bull hasn't sent a runnah an' I'm tired of waitin'. If he couldn't back up his threats, he shouldn't have made 'em." Spot said evenly. He noticed hints of relief wash over his two newsies' faces, though they did well to mask it.

Smalls grinned wickedly, his previous nervousness gone now that he knew Spot wasn't angry with them. "So we're acutally gunna kill Bull?" he asked, a almost greedy look in his eye. Spot nodded.

Night rubbed his hands together. This was big. They were actually going to assassinate a borough leader. Damn, it felt good to be a Brooklyn boy. "When we gunna do it, Spot?"

"'Morrow night. Da sooner da better. God, I can't wait tah get dis thing ovah wit," he said, rolling his eyes.

"Anyone else comin'?" Smalls asked.

"Yeah. Nails and Rusty. You two tell 'em 'bout da plan. Tell 'em we're gunna slit da bastard's throat, but I want Nails tah bring his pistol wit him jus' in case." Spot could talk about murder like he was talking about the weather.

Smalls and Night nodded, excited looks on their faces as they went to go find Nails and Rusty. Spot smiled in satisfaction. This would be a clean job, and quite a few of his problems would be solved, for the mean time at least. Spot was walking over to where a few of his boys were playing poker when a knock was heard on the lodging house door. Spot stopped in his tracks, his back went stiff. Turning to face the door, he narrowed his eyes. "Who da hell could dat be?" he thought cooly. Nobody ever came to the Brooklyn Lodging House at night. Never. They all knew better.

The room was silent know, all eyes on Spot. Some of the newsboys had stood up, ready to fight if the need be. Someone knocking on Brooklyn's door? This was defiantly unusual. Spot took out his cane from his belt loop as he walked towards the door and flung it open. Standing before him was a boy about his age with shaggy brown hair and brown eyes. He looked at Spot defiantly, yet Brooklyn could see fear distinctively in his eyes.

"Who da hell are yah and what are yah doin' here?" Spot asked coldly, with absolutely no kindness in his eyes. The boy averted his gaze from Spot's and tried not to gulp in fear. Spot rolled his eyes, he didn't have time do deal with this. "I asked yah a question, yah bum. Now answer it!" He took his cane and pushed the boy in the chest with it, forcing the kid to stumble backwards. A few of the Brookies let out amused laughs. It was always fun to watch Spot fight.

The boy took a deep, shuddering breath and looked up at Spot. "My name is Freckles. I-I have a message from Queens."

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**A/N: Yeah I know this chapter didn't have "the girl" actually in it or anything, but I needed to write this one as it is important to the plot. I hope you like it though, I really wanted to get it up so I wrote it kinda quick so sorry if its not the best or anything... actually I'm really not too happy with it :( but PLEASE review. Advice is always welcome!**


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: Well, as some of you may or may not know, this is my first story, and I'm still getting the hang of everything. So as I was logging on to my account, I realized there is this thing called "Stats" where you can see how many alerts you have, how many favorites lists you are one, if your story belongs to any C2's, etc. You see, I never knew that existed, but now that I do, all I have to say is... thank you. I never really knew how much my writing was accepted, how much you guys liked the story. From someone like me, who's work has always been turned down by their English teacher for not being of proper structure or not deep enough or whatever, it really means a lot to me that you guys like this story. You have no idea. It really made my day when I saw the response this story was getting. So thanks. That's all I have to say. I hope you enjoy this chapter, it's a tad bit longer than usual :)**

Spot looked at the boy with emotionless eyes. He didn't move, nor did he speak. He just stared at the newsie in front of him with a most scrutinizing gaze. The poor kid was quivering uncontrollably, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he withered under Brooklyn's gaze. Now, most people would be shocked at Spot's lack of empathy, at the fact that he felt absolutely nothing about the apparent suffering he was causing. However, there are a select few who know better. Spot Conlon** had **emotions. Who was anyone to tell you he didn't? What is **seen** is not always what actually **is**. When the Queens boy had told Spot that he had a message for him, Spot was smoldering inside. His well debated plan, that had just been settled moments ago, was now burning away before his very eyes. The conflict with Queens was about to have been ended, but now a damned messenger had to come in and rip his solution apart. Spot wanted nothing more than to throw up his hands in frustration and smash something. But he didn't. He **couldn't**. Any display of emotion like that would ruin him. Spot needed to appear unmoved.

"A message, huh?" Spot asked, his tone flat yet slightly taunting at the same time. The messenger broke his gaze from Spot's. A small grin formed on Brooklyn's lips. "So what's da bastard gotta say? Sure took him long enough tah think of somthin', but I guess wit Bull, dat can be expected." The Brooklyn boys that had gathered behind their leader laughed as Spot leaned against the doorframe with a smug expression on his face.

Freckles felt like an idiot, and very uncomfortable, which he knew was the goal Spot was going for. He didn't know what to say. He knew what the message was, but was seriously regretting making the decision to go to Brooklyn. Bull had told him to repeat his message word for word to Jack Kelly. Simple enough, right? Wrong. When he had knocked on the door to the Manhattan Lodging house, he was met by a confident Jack Kelly telling him to go to Brooklyn, and tell whatever Bull's message was to Spot Conlon. What was he supposed to do, go back to Queens and tell Bull that Cowboy shooed him off with a wave of his hand? Bull wouldn't have listened to any of his attempts for excuses. This was war, and there was no room for mistakes. The ones who made them tended to disappear.

Freckles sighed. If Spot was anyone else, he would've punched him for insulting his leader. That would have been the honorable thing to do, what Bull would have wanted him to do. But this wasn't just any newsie, this was Conlon. And though Freckles was burning with shame for saying nothing as Spot ripped his pride apart, he saw no other option. This was one boy he had no choice but to respect.

"Do yah want tah hear da message?" he asked, proud of himself for keeping his voice steady.

"**No**, I want yah tah come in here and play a round a' pokah wit us, maybe have a bottle of wine a' two." Spot said sarcastically, yet keeping his voice as icy as ever. The newsboys behind him laughed once again, but Spot showed no traces of amusement.

Freckles' cheeks burned with embarrassment. He was glad it was dark, otherwise he thought he might drown himself in the river from shame. This was beyond torture. Conlon was just playing with him, trying to brake him down, make him feel lower than dirt. Freckles was sorry to say that he had succeeded.

Taking a deep breath, Freckles willed himself to look into the eyes of Spot. Better get this over with. "Bull says dat Queens ain't gunna back down. He don't care who Kelly has workin' for him. He wants Manhattan, and is gunna take it. Kelly has once chance tah surrender. If he does, da Manhattan boys are allowed tah stay as newsies under Bull's rule, but Kelly's gotta leave. If he don't surrender, Bull says he don't mind killin' any of the Manhattan boys who get in his way. Kelly's got till noon tomorrow tah send a runnah tah Queens wit his surrender. If he don't, Manhattan bettah be ready for war."

There was silence. The Brookies were no longer laughing. Spot had shifted from his position leaning against the doorframe and was now standing on two feet in front of Freckles, with his hands balled into fists at his sides. Freckles become overwhelmed with fear. How could he have said that? Seriously, how could he have **said** that? He wanted to slap himself in the face for being so stupid. He should have never came to Brooklyn. This was a bad idea. A bad, bad idea. He was going to die, right now, a slow and painful death. He was sure of it. The look Spot was giving him now was already enough to make his heart slow in his chest. The way Spot's eyes were boring into him... damn, if looks could kill. Brooklyn took a step forward. Freckles took a step back. "Yes," thought Freckles, "dis is definitely da end." He was pretty sure Spot had never heard of the phrase 'don't shoot the messenger...'.

"Now **you** listen tah **me.**" Spot said in a deathly quiet voice. His eyes were flashing dangerously, but other than that he appeared composed. "**You** is gunna run back to Queens and tell Bull dat Manhattan ain't gunna surrender, not now, not evah. But you is gunna tell him dat I'm givin'** him **once chance to surrender tah **me**." Spot jabbed a finger in his own chest for emphasis. "If Queens attacks Manhattan, its gunna look tah me like they is attackin' Brooklyn. And I **ain't** gunna like it if Queens attacks Brooklyn. If Bull surrenders, I might just forget dat dis whole little incident evah happened. But if he don't, I want him tah know dat he ain't just goin' up against Kelly, he's goin' up against Spot Conlon."

Once again, silence rang through the streets of Brooklyn. Freckles could hear the water of the river splashing up against the docks, the breeze rustling a few discarded newspapers on the road. He needed to get out of there, **now**. Spot Conlon just officially declared war on Queens, and here he was, deep into the enemy's territory. Yes, it was definitely time to go. Shifting his feet, he looked down at his hands. "I'll tell him," was all he said. He knew Spot wouldn't kill him, not now that he had his message to carry, but that didn't mean he wouldn't send him back to Queens beaten and bruised to prove a point.

"Get out of here," Spot growled. Freckles looked up into his eyes, he didn't need to be told twice. He turned away and was just about to break into a run when he quickly changed his mind. Spot already thought he was scared, he didn't need to confirm his suspicions for him. However, once he turned a corner and was out of sight of the lodging house, he didn't think twice before sprinting in the direction of Queens.

"Well, dat was interestin'," Night commented as Spot slammed the lodging house door. His leader turned to face him, raising an eyebrow, clearly not in the mood. Night looked away uncomfortably. He always seemed to manage to say the wrong things at exactly the wrong time. Taking Spot's glare as a cue for his dismissal, he turned to head towards the stairs, but stopped suddenly as a response from Spot startled him.

"Yeah, it was." Night looked back at Spot. He was leaning up against the was, striking a match to light a cigarette. After taking a leisurely drag and blowing out the smoke, he turned towards Night and continued. "Tomorrow we is goin' to go tah Manhattan again, let Jacky Boy know what happened."

Night nodded. "I'll go and tell Smalls." With a nod from Spot for approval, he hurried off.

Spot look another drag on his cigarette. Yeah, tomorrow they'd all go to Jack's turf, get him and his boys up to speed. This was perfect. Spot had been waiting for an excuse to go to Manhattan. It was driving him insane. He **needed **to see her again. He wanted to feel what he felt the first time he saw her once more. That feeling... he couldn't even describe it. It was like time had stopped. Nothing else existed, only him, only her. Her very presence had pulled him in, made it so that he could hardly take his eyes off her. He had only seen her for a few moments, had never even talked to her, but there was something about her. Something that made him want her more than anything he had ever wanted. And he didn't know why.

Spot sighed. This was getting annoying. Why did he give a damn if he ever saw this broad again? I mean, he hadn't even screwed her or anything. Why did he want her? Flicking his cigarette out the window, he walked headed up the stairs to his room. At the moment, he was too tired to give a shit. Kicking off his shoes and flopping down onto his bed, he closed his eyes. "Tomorrow," he thought to himself. "I'll finally find yah." A picture of her clear green eyes flashed through his mind. He smirked, only one thought in his mind as he drifted off into sleep.

"Come out, come out, wherevah yah are..."

**A/N: Gosh, I'm sorry the girl isn't in this yet! I really hope you guys don't hate me for it! But you see, this chapter was originally really long and I had to cut it somewhere. But she will be in the next one, I promise! Ahh I know, this Queens stuff is just dragging on, but it is important and will come into play later. So don't give up on the story yet, for the real plot is just starting! Review, review, review, for the more I get, the faster I write!**

**Oh one more thing. Remember how I said I was kinda new to writing FF? Well, its true, so sadly I have a stupid question. Ummm what exactly is a Mary Sue? I know it is something bad obviously, but does anyone have a definition or something? Cuz I don't want my girl to be a Mary Sue, but I don't really know what one is, so help would be greatly appreciated. Thanks! Yeah I definitely feel stupid now... sheepish grin**

**Outsider Wolf**


	7. Please Read

**PLEASE READ**

**Hey guys. I don't know if we are even allowed to have an authors note as a chapter, so sorry if I'm braking some kind of rule, please don't be mad. But I needed to tell you guys that I won't be able to update for a while.**

**You see, I'm leaving for Florida like tomorrow for two weeks and don't think I will have access to a computer, hence no updating. But I thought it would be okay since I was planning on updating right before I left, keeping you guys content. But things didn't really work out that way.**

**A few days ago, my puppy got hit by a car a died. Now that may not seem like a big deal to you guys, but you gotta understand. I loved that dog with all my heart. She meant the world to me. I've had some rough times, and I would look to her to comfort me. She always did. I know this may sound stupid to you and that you guys are probably thinking I'm some crazy girl who is overly emotional about her dog, but I can't help it. She was just a baby. Really young. She would have had a whole long life ahead of her, but it was ripped away from her by a car that didn't even stop after it ran her over. I was going to sit down and write the next chapter but to tell you the truth, my fanfiction story has been the furthest thing in my mind these past few days. I really hope you guys don't give up on this story though. I'm not. An update will be coming, it will just take some time. After I get back from Florida, this story will be my first priority. Please keep reading and reviewing as the next chapters come out. I hope I don't lose any readers by this delay.**

**Thanks for all the reviews and positive feedback I've gotten so far, you guys really are awesome.**

**Until next time (and there WILL be a next time),**

**Outsider Wolf**


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